Requiem for Friends Lost
by DizmiusArtistius
Summary: Told from tne view of Sirius Black, what happened after he broke out of Azkaban, and his thoughts on what went on, i'm sure its been done before, but who cares, it's mine.


Requiem For Friends Lost.  
  
disclaimer as usual, i dont own anything.  
  
Told from the viewpoint of Sirius Black. comes as a prequel to STG, BD and IYWTDMS...  
if this is well received i'll do the same thing but from Remus's views.  
  
-*-  
  
Was it really twelve years? I hadn't counted. Well, I'd stopped counting after a few months in that hellhole, you see, all your days merge together when you're in there. You can't really distinguish day or night, or even weeks anymore, it all becomes one long singularity. Is that even a word? I can't remember, so long since I've thought to myself, since I've thought at all.  
  
You know, it's all over the newspapers. People think I've formulated some plan. The truth is a definite opposite, when you're in there, you don't have the capacity to formulate little mind bending schemes, you take what's given and take it graciously. Now that's something to ponder on.   
  
I'm sure there are people cursing my name out there, locking their doors double tight in the fear that the evil murderer who went for his best friend's family will go after them. Listen to me. I'm starting to sound like Lucius Malfoy, all that dripping sarcasm. Must be bad for health. Then again, I'm sure my health couldn't get much worse right now. Look at the state of me, coughing like some elderly wizard with witch's flu. Robes, don't even mention them. I don't think they're in the state to be classified as robes, if I washed them, I run the fear of them disintegrating into a fine pile of dust. That could be interesting. Anyway, I have to clean up sometime, I can't go to the places I want to dressed like this. Disrespectful and whatnot. Yes James, I can hear you laughing at me right now. But its something I'm sure you didn't get to find out about me, I hold a certain deal of respect in my appearance towards others, it tends to sway people's thoughts on the person in question, namely me.  
  
That was a few days back. I'm still pinching myself. I know I'm not free, very far from it in fact, but it felt like I was for a while, like it was a dream. I can see it now, people who knew me, the old me, rolling their eyes in disgust, "It had to be Sirius, didn't it." Nobody else got out of that concrete 'thing' before, but then again, there's a first time for everything, right?  
To tell you the truth I was very surprised myself, it wasn't something I expected to achieve at first. It was more of a desire to get caught and killed, but then, if I go killed on my escape no one would know the truth. This is my truth, but I don't think many people understand what real truth is, especially not that Fudge. Do you know why he was so disillusioned and didn't give me a trial? His wife, first wife I might add, was caught in Wormtail's little blast that day.  
Personal loss, nothing wrenches the heart and influences the mind as much, and believe me, I should know.  
  
I can hear you, you want to know what it was like, listening to the others in there screaming and moaning as they lost their minds, lost those memories that meant so much to them. I don't think there's a word that describes it. You have to be there to understand. And it does hurt more than others, it all depends on how happy you were before, what your life was like beforehand.   
It affects you like a fog, a thick enclosing mist that slowly closes over those happy days where you thought yourself to be king. They all went quiet after a while, here was nothing left to be taken from them and they lived in misery of their defeats and maltreatments. Not a pretty sight, and looking through the small bars on my door opened my eyes to the real scum of the barrel of wizards. Not nice. So many people who I recognised, but looked so different some how. Lost, empty. Take the Lestranges, all they have left is each other, and they hardly ever mutter a word, mostly they just sit on their bed huddled together, weeping and shaking violently, they're in the cell opposite me, and sometimes they're looking out at the same time as me, there's nothing to say to them, they belong in here, I don't. But if Dumbledore doesn't even believe that, then who will?  
  
The Lestranges, I remember them well from Hogwarts, such a happy pair of Slytherins I have never seen again. Like most of them, they turned to the Dark Lord for their 'nourishment'. And nourish them he did, in the ways of evil and dark. I remember them being brought in, looking solemn and defeated, I was in a shock when I saw them being thrown into their cell, barely two years after I was placed here. What shocked me was who brought them in. An old friend of mine, I had forgotten she was in training to become an Auror when I left that night to get revenge. I heard Moody took her up and gave her the best teaching there was to be had. I can remember it well now. She just walked past my cell, looking in for the briefest moment, then watched as the dementors had their was with the Lestranges, and left, as silently as she'd arrived. It got me thinking, which is something I do not recommend doing in Azkaban. It sort of opened the door to some old memories.  
  
Me and Remus and her, we shared a little house not far from Godric's Hollow, a little log cabin in a forest. Very hidden, very quaint. It's somewhere that I must revisit very soon. Just to see if it's still there. James used to bring Harry there when Lily was busy working. It was amazing fun to have them round. I didn't think much of it at the time, but now I see that it was odd that Peter never accepted invitations to come to my place, preferring to live nearer a large settlement of wizards. That was where Harry learnt our names, well variations anyway. My name was the most difficult of the four, always PahFuff. The name stuck, and even Lily was calling me that after a while. Remus was obviously still Moony, that was the easiest to learn, he always shouted it out when Remus came near, it brightened up that ol' werewolf's day countless times. I can only hope that Remus has some alternative device now. Is he even still alive? I don't know. Perhaps it's only me and Wormtail who are left now. That photo... almost killed me there and then. Gave me amazing willpower. Something I have Wormtail to thank for… Giving me the cause to escape the unescapable. How ironic.  
  
That sort of explains why I'm sitting here, Talking to You about all this. Needed to talk to someone, and who better than my best friend. And maybe its better that you cant answer back. I'm not sure. I don't have enough ego to rip to shreds at this point, James, I'm sorry. I'll have to deny you that pleasure. I could have made it more poetic i suppose, or written it in fancy script and buried in the soil next to the flowers that scatter your grave, but its not my style, I'm not even sure what my style is anymore, its something I have to rediscover. I wonder if the church warden has seen the rather large black dog that's sitting here, looking at your headstone. People must come and put flowers here every day, or charm them to be everlasting flowers, because frankly, you're grave is overflowing with them. None from Harry, I wonder if he even knows you're buried here. Those Muggles, awful people, I met them at your wedding didn't I. Well, I say Met, of course I mean played endless pranks on. You didn't mind, so I carried on.   
  
Its not even dawn yet, and inside the church it seems so warm. They've got a book of remembrance in your honour, everyone writing their condolences, I never got the chance to add mine so I guess that's what I'll do now. Write something.   
  
It's a bit lame, just writing 'Sorry', then signing it 'Padfoot', but it means a lot to me, so forgive my lack of vocabulary at the present time won't you? Flicking through this, I can see nearly everyone who ever knew you signed it. Look, there's Remus's flourishing script. Sentimental, as always. There's Dumbledore's, and McGonagalls' and Edea's. Never could understand how anyone could read that writing, it's more like a very long line with little hills and valleys than writing. How odd are some people's additions? Remus has added quite a few over the years, still alive I see, look, here's one from just a few weeks ago, that's odd. Four words in total- "The road not taken," no doubt means something to him, I wonder if he knew I thought the traitor was him? How I wish I could have had better judgement at that time. With the gift of hindsight, it's painfully obvious who was the traitor from my point of view. Such is life.   
  
-*-  
  
You're not at home, the lights are dimmed and the fireplace empty. Do you even live here anymore? I found out where the Durlseys lived and I'm sorry to say I must have given Harry such a shock when he saw me. I hadn't planned him on seeing me, but he had done nonetheless, it made me choke, just to see that face. Was I seeing the son of my friend or my friend himself? It was the eyes, blazing green that gave it away. I should have made a run for it then and there, but couldn't. It was almost like he had me under the imperius curse, ordering me stay still, eyes transfixed on his stare. He was safe and I left, came here. I saw her leave the house, so I know she still lives here. But do you, Moony my old fellow marauder? Or was it too painful?  
  
I don't blame you either way. Then again, wherever Edea is, I know you're not far away. Always protective of her, weren't you? Warning me away, even though you had someone of your own. I laughed at you for doing that then, but now? I'm actually very thankful, no doubt you got each other through. You two always did. Sometimes, I admit, I felt left out. Those topical conversations you held on theories that went straight past my head. I can argue, but you two were like the lion and the tiger, always finding something else to add to prove your point.  
I guess it didn't surprise me to find out her animagus form. A wolf. She refused to try it at Hogwarts and even though she remained unlicensed, (all Aurors do, to protect them) I have to concede that I felt jealous. A wolf. Like you. Still had those piercing blue eyes though. Same as yours. I hardly blame you if she's now yours. But I'd like to think... maybe twelve years is too long a period of time to hope.  
  
Looking through the window of my old little room I shared with her, its still the same, the door is closed. Have you even been in there since? Maybe some doors are better off locked until the right person holds the key. I can see through the crack in the curtains of the living room window, books everywhere as per usual. Books and empty plates. Not a great believer in using house elves to do the dirty work were you? Always liked to talk to them as equals. We took the mickey at the time, of course we did, it was hilarious. I can see your old boots by the empty fireplace, they're a bit well-worn aren't they. But you always liked to wear your clothes well, get as much use out of them as possible before buying something new. Wear it 'til it fell off in exhaustion. Where are you right now? Edea's probably out on her Auror hunt with all the others, but you don't do that, do you? Your room looks empty, the window grimy. Like our friendship now.  
But that is going to change, I'm going to find him, Moony. I'll prove what you all think about me is wrong. I'll catch him and show him up for the lying traitor that he is, that you think I was supposed to be. I'll give you a requiem to our lost friendship. I'll play it in the key of rat minor, and in the tempo of death.   
  
Let me play you my piece  



End file.
